


Five Things Keith Regrets

by Hannaadi88



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bottom Lance (Voltron), M/M, Relationship Study, Top Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannaadi88/pseuds/Hannaadi88
Summary: ...and one he doesn't.





	Five Things Keith Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I chose not to use Archive warnings. As such, you might encounter one or more of the warnings in this story. If this makes you uncomfortable, you might want to sit this one out.

 

_i_

 

 

The door slammed after Keith as he left Iverson's office. If he had to hear one more time how there was 'no more information to be had' about the Kerberos mission, Keith was seriously starting to consider breaking into the system and getting the information himself. It was painfully obvious that the Garrison was hiding something. Something big. If the crew…if _Shiro_ was really dead, there'd be no reason to be so vague about what exactly had happened during their mission.

He walked down the hallway, pace brisk and looking unseeingly ahead. He was supposed to be getting his books for his next class, but Keith's legs were taking him in the opposite direction. He needed to go outside and clear his head- maybe run a lap or two. He couldn't fathom sitting quietly in a classroom when he was like this. Not now. Keith needed a plan, and he couldn't concentrate when he felt like he was about to explode.

_Patience yields focus._

Keith's eyes burned and he swallowed thickly, lips pursed in a frown. Crying wasn't going to help. He'd done enough of it during that awful, awful first night. It was a fucking waste of time and he should—

"Hey! Watch where you're-Keith?"

Keith blinked, looking up at the guy he'd just walked into. Tall, lanky and brown. Keith was pretty sure he'd never seen him before. How did he know his name?

"Um, do I know you?"

The guy's eyes lit up before sticking his hand out with an enthusiastic smile. "Nope, but I know you! You're Keith Kogane, the guy with the top score in the flight simulator, right?"

Keith shrugged and pushed past the guy, any interest in the conversation gone. The last thing he wanted right now was to be roped into talking to someone who thought he was something special just because of some stupid score. What use were good grades if they didn't grant you access to what mattered most?

He needed that information, ASAP. Every minute Keith wasted at the Garrison was a minute Shiro could've been home already had Keith gotten his hands on the intel sooner.

Someone was running behind him, trying to catch up. Keith raised his brow as he looked to his right and saw the guy grinning back at him.

"Okay, I know, you've probably got a class to run to. I actually do too but, um, I didn't introduce myself and that's super rude. My name is Lance!"

Keith took a deep breath. He didn't have time for this.

"Yeah, I've got class now," he said stiffly, quickening his pace. "Gotta go."

Most people would've taken that as an obvious sign of dismissal, but the guy was either oblivious or purposefully obtuse. He continued to walk next to Keith, keeping up with his pace as if they weren't practically running through the halls.

"Y'know, I'm a pretty good pilot too! Well, at least in my class. I'm training to be a cargo pilot, but I just know that I'd make an awesome fighter pilot! It's my calling!"

Keith's head was starting to hurt.

"Listen, I really need to—"

"Going to space has always been my dream," the guy continued, ignoring Keith's attempt to end the conversation. "Exploring the universe, meeting aliens, the works. My mami always told me to reach for the stars, but she never thought I'd take her literally, hah!"

"I don't—"

"I was thinking, since you're so good and all at the simulator, maybe you could give me some tips? From one bro to another? I've got a big test next week and I'm totally gonna ace it, but it never hurts to get some help, amiright? Waddaya say?"

Keith's hands curled into fists at his sides. He didn't think he could take much more of this. "Can you please just—"

"I mean, you probably have more important things to do, I get it. But this is kinda a big deal for me. And I think you running into me is a sign! I heard you're a natural, so I understand if it's a bit difficult for you to come up with actual tips and stuff, but I'd honestly be happy with anything at this point," the guy smiled sheepishly and raised his hand, placing it on Keith's shoulder.

Keith froze.

"So do you think you can meet me for lunch and we'll go over a few pointers? I hope you don't mind, but my friend is gonna sit with us too. He's really awesome though! You'll totally like him! Hunk and I go way back, and I mean waaaaay back. He's the kind of friend that—"

Keith yanked his shoulder out of the guy's grasp. There was just something about him that rubbed Keith the wrong way. If he heard one more word, he was going to scream.

"I'm not interested," Keith muttered, narrowing his eyes at the guy. "Just leave me alone."

There, he'd said it. Keith didn't pay any special attention to the way the guy's face fell- he just wanted to get out of there. Keith turned around and continued down the hall. He could almost taste the cold air waiting for him outside. His blood felt like it was boiling in his veins.

But something tugged at his arm, forcing him to a stop.

"Wait, please just hear me out! I really—"

Keith's body moved automatically, turning around to fully face the guy and punched him. Hard.

"I told you to leave me alone!" Keith yelled. He could hear his pulse ringing in his ears. The guy took a few steps back and tripped over his ridiculously long legs, falling to the ground. He held his wounded cheek in his palm as he looked up at Keith with wide eyes.

Keith tensed as he heard whispers coming from all around him. He looked around and noticed for the first time that he and the guy weren't alone in the hallway. It was easy to forget when all he could hear was the guy's incessant chatter, but now he was finally silent and Keith could hear the other voices talking in low tones.

He was pretty sure they were all saying his name.

Keith bolted, running down the hall and through the doors. The wind whipped in his face as he ran and ran, but Keith was glad for it. He hadn't asked for this- for any of this- to happen.

But he knew what was _going_ to happen. No high score was going to help him now, not with his track record. He'd been warned. Multiple times. Shiro had vouched for him the last time Keith got into trouble, and even then he'd been suspended for a week.

Now that Shiro wasn't there anymore, there was no doubt in Keith's mind that he was a hearing away from finding himself out on the street.

Maybe he should just drop out and save them all the trouble.

It wasn't like he had a reason to stay.

 

 

_ii_

 

 

"I'm telling you, dude, she was totally into me!"

Keith looked up from the tablet Pidge had given him. It was an English translation of ancient Altean texts concerning the Galra, but as much as Keith wanted to learn all he could about their enemy, the wording was…archaic, for the lack of a better term. It was difficult to get into it and Keith found himself re-reading the same sentence over and over again.

Lance and Hunk walking into the lounge and sitting down next to him was a welcomed distraction. Not that he'd ever admit to Lance that he was glad for his company.

"Who are you talking about?" Keith raised a brow as he set the tablet down beside him. Maybe he'd ask Pidge later if she had more modern translations he could work with.

He watched as Lance leaned back and draped his arms over the back of the couch, crossing his legs like he owned the place. Typical.

"Nyma," the alien's name had a dreamy quality off Lance's lips and Keith tensed. He was already regretting asking. He looked over at Hunk, who sat on Lance's other side, and Hunk offered him a sheepish smile and a shrug.

"I already reminded him she was just part of the scam," Hunk said with resignation. With the amount of times Hunk had repeated that he'd known all along that something wasn't right with Nyma and Rolo, Keith would've expected him to be angry. They'd only just saved Lance and Blue from their clutches a few quintants ago.

But Hunk only seemed mildly amused with Lance's newest infatuation. Keith's lips thinned into a frown- he'd never understand their relationship.

Lance waved his hand as if to brush off Hunk's allegations. "Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know. But I'm telling you! Even without Blue, we totally would've hit it off!"

Keith blinked.

"Didn't she leave you cuffed to a tree?"

"…I'm open to trying new things," Lance's smirk left Keith unsettled. Regardless of the imagery he did _not_ want floating around in his head right now, he wasn't quite sure if Lance was serious or not. Did he actually believe he ever had a chance with Nyma?

" _Bro_. Not the time or place."

Lance snorted and patted Hunk on the shoulder. "Sorry, you're right. But yeah, I rest my case. We could've been space Romeo and Juliet. Without the, um, death and stuff at the end. You wouldn't kill me because I fell in love with a beautiful alien, right, Hunk?"

"What? Of course not! Actually, I—"

Keith stood up. He couldn't take any more of this nonsense.

"This is so stupid! If you want to worry about someone killing you, it's an alien, pretty or not!"

Lance's expression soured and his eyes narrowed the way they did when they argued. At least Keith was in familiar territory again.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Nyma would never kill me! We're star crossed!"

"Nyma left you to _die_ ," Keith snapped. He crossed his arms and glared down at Lance. "She couldn't have known for sure that we can communicate with each other with our helmets. She left you tied up and stranded. She obviously didn't care if you survived or not."

Lance jumped up, stepping forward and grabbing Keith's jacket. Keith tensed but let it slide- he didn't want to get into a fistfight with Lance. He just wanted to get through to him.

"Take that back," Lance hissed. "You don't know Nyma. You don't know anything about her!"

Keith noticed Hunk in the periphery of his vision stand up as well and hover nervously behind Lance. There was nothing for him to worry about, though. Keith wasn't going to let this escalate. Once Lance realized his mistake, he'd back off.

"I know enough. Besides, you don't know her either."

Lance's grip on Keith tightened. "We had a bonding moment. She said we should meet again. Can't do that if I'm dead."

"Wait," Keith's raised his hand, grasping Lance's extended arm. "You're telling me that you had a _bonding moment_? With Nyma?"

"You bet I did!"

Keith grit his teeth. None of this made sense. A pretty alien tricks Lance and abandons him, and he calls it a bonding moment. Keith helped save Lance from Sendak in what even Lance admitted at the time was good teamwork, but he doesn't even remember it?

It just didn't add up.

"You're unbelievable," Keith seethes, yanking Lance's arm and forcing him to release his hold on Keith's jacket. "You put the entire team in danger- hell, the whole universe! Without Blue we can't form Voltron! And for what? Some pretty face?"

Lance opens his mouth, probably to try to defend himself, but Keith doesn't give him the chance.

"You might not be so lucky next time. A _real_ pilot never jeopardizes his mission like that, Lance. This isn't a game. And if you don't get that, well…maybe you're just not cut out for this. If we're gonna win thin, you need to be better than a cargo pilot."

The words just tumbled out, a mix of blunt truth and perhaps unnecessary venom. Some of them Keith meant, some of them he didn't. But the wide blue eyes that stared back at him made Keith want to take them back, true or not.

He didn't think he'd ever seen Lance so pale, not even in the cryopod. Keith thought Lance would want to say something, but the silence that followed his words spoke volumes.

He'd gone too far, hadn't he?

Keith took a step forward and extended his hand.

"Lance…"

Lance flinched. Keith caught him blinking rapidly before turning on his heel and rushing out of the room. Dread curled in Keith's stomach as he called after him, tried to follow, but a firm hand on his shoulder kept him back.

Looking over his shoulder, Keith met Hunk's gaze. He almost wished Hunk would yell at him, accuse him of crossing the line, but the only thing he saw in Hunk's gaze was disappointment.

And somehow, that made him feel worse.

"That wasn't cool, Keith," Hunk said quietly.

Keith dug his nails into his palms. "I should go apologize."

Hunk squeezed his shoulder before letting go. "Yeah, you should. But give him some time, okay? That was, um, a pretty low blow."

Keith nodded, feeling absolutely miserable as he watched Hunk give him one last look before leaving the room. He was probably going to find Lance. Keith wasn't really sure why he couldn't go apologize immediately, but he trusted Hunk. After all, no one else knew Lance better than his best friend.

Sitting back down on the couch, Keith picked up Pidge's neglected tablet and tried to read it again, but ended up turning it off and leaning back, staring up at the ceiling. If he'd found it difficult to focus on the words before, now he couldn't concentrate at all.

Not when Lance's pale face and wide eyes were still on his mind.

 

 

_iii_

 

 

Lance was a good shot- Keith would give him as much. The laser gun he was using wouldn't actually hurt if Lance hit Keith, but Keith was doing his best avoiding it anyway. That's what he was working on, after all. Evasion.

When Shiro had suggested that they train in pairs, Keith had thought that he was doing Lance a favor. Lance was improving by the day but he could still use all the help he could get. This one-sided game of laser tag was framed as a shooting exercise for Lance and to supposedly help Keith work on his fleeing instinct.

Keith assumed that Shiro had worded it that way to make sure that Lance didn't feel like he was the only one who needed the extra help. But when Keith looked up at the hologram keeping score, he frowned when he saw that Lance had over 300 points to his name.

He'd been hit ten times.

That was impossible. True, he wasn't supposed to feel the hits, but Keith made sure to keep his eye on Lance's rifle the whole time. He would've noticed getting hit _ten times_. If those had been real bullets, he would've been dead.

"There must be something wrong with the system," Keith huffed, narrowing his eyes at the hologram. Maybe he'd misread it. Lance's laugh confirmed that he hadn't.

"Aw, c'mon Keith, don't be a sore loser. This Sharpshooter got you, fair and square."

Keith turned around and shook his head. "I'm not a sore loser! I'm just saying that there must've been some kind of malfunction or something. You didn't hit me ten times!"

Lance flashed him an irritating grin. "You bet I did. You're pretty good about getting away, but your limbs were all over the place, man. They've got more holes in them now than Swiss cheese."

Keith blinked. He wanted to snap at Lance, tell him that he'd been doing this for years, he knows how to handle himself under heavy fire. But thinking back, Keith realized that he…didn't. Not really. He relied a lot on his energy shield and armor to protect him and deflect the shots while he rushed forward to take his opponent down from up close.

Maybe he wasn't as quick as he'd thought.

"…I wouldn't call it fair and square," Keith mumbled. Fair would've been had he been allowed to use his own bayard. He folded his arms against his chest and gave Lance an even look. "I want a rematch."

Lance shrugged. "That's fine by me. You're still gonna lose."

Keith raised a brow. "Wanna bet?"

"Oh, you're _so_ going down, mullet."

Lance's smirk did something odd to Keith's stomach, but he didn't pay it any attention. Not when he had a match to win. He returned the sentiment with a somewhat predatory grin and resumed his position at the other side of the room.

They started off more or less the same as the first round- Lance remained in his spot and aimed at Keith, who darted in between shots and took cover. Rolling on the floor to avoid a hit to his shoulder, Keith glanced up as he came to a stop and crouched, poised and ready to jump out of the way.

Lance had his triumphant smile on again. It was silly, the way he puffed up over every little victory. Very Lance-like. A bit endearing, though Keith would never admit to it. Right now, though, that smile was bad news.

How many hits had Lance landed so far? It was killing Keith how he couldn't tell. At this rate he was going to just keep getting shot until the time ran out.

He needed to change tactics. Keith was getting tired of evading, anyway. Offense was the best defense, right?

Keith jumped as Lance's laser flashed in the corner of his eye. He avoided the shot, zigzagging forward as he quickly rushed towards his target on the other side of the room. The shots came more frequently and were more difficult to dodge when he had less time to react, but Keith figured that he could take those hits. It was a calculated loss. As long as he incapacitated Lance within the next few ticks, they'd be worth it.

He was close enough to see Lance's smile fade. Keith figured Lance would start panicking, but if anything the shots he took seemed more focused. Accurate. Keith wasn't about to let that stop him, though.

Lance hadn't moved from his spot since they'd started the sequence, but the closer Keith got, he noticed how Lance would take a step back.

Who was on defense now?

"Keith," Lance said his name loudly, as if he could intimidate him with his shrill voice. Hah. "Keith, stop it, you're cheating! You'd be dead by now! Keith—"

Keith wasn't listening, didn't need to listen. He was winning. Lance was the one with the weapon, but that only made him slower. Keith circled him, ducking and dodging Lance's shots as he aimed at him, turning around and around. There was a sheen on Lance's brow that Keith was sure Lance would've fretted over had he glimpsed himself in a mirror.

But right now, he was too focused on trying to hit Keith. Keith was running out of breath, but he still managed a little laugh- poor Lance, devastatingly out of his depth. He'd allowed Keith to get too close.

This was Keith's territory, now.

And there it was. Keith's opening. He could tell that Lance's world was starting to spin. His steps were unsteady and his arms wobbled as they took aim. Keith decided to take pity on the poor guy. He should end this before Lance tripped and hurt himself.

All it took was one quick swipe to knock Lance's rifle out of his hand. With the weapon out of the way it was a matter of a few jabs to leave Lance breathless and shove him face-first against the wall.

Keith tightened his hold on the back of Lance's neck, as well as his grip on Lance's wrists held securely behind his back. Lance cried out and struggled, attempting to step back and break free from Keith's hold, but Keith only pushed forward. He had to keep Lance subdued until the hologram scoreboard appeared to confirm that their match was over.

This close, Keith was practically pressed up against Lance's back. He could _feel_ Lance's ragged breathing in the way his shoulders shook. The heat that radiated from Lance's skin mingled with his own. The back of Lance's shirt was damp.

"Where's your gun…Sharpshooter?" Keith teased and cleared his throat. He still needed to catch his breath. He looked over his shoulder and saw that, indeed, the hologram had appeared in the middle of the room. The font was large enough for Keith to read how many hits he'd taken during the match.

Seven.

Grinning, Keith took a step back and released his hold on Lance.

"You gave a good fight, Lance. Y'need to figure out what to do when an enemy gets too close to—Lance?"

Lance hadn't turned around. He wasn't saying anything, either. Now that was odd. Where were the accusations that Keith had cheated? Where was Lance's demand for a tiebreaker?

Keith's eyes widened when he heard a distinctive sniff. Lance's shoulders were still shaking. Tentatively, Keith reached out to place a hand on one of Lance's shoulders. He dropped it immediately when he felt Lance flinch.

"…Lance? What's wrong?"

Dread coiled in Keith's gut as Lance silently turned around. His breath caught as his eyes zeroed on Lance's face.

It was…a mess. Keith hadn't seen Lance so _raw_ since the explosion that knocked him out months before. His eyes and cheeks were wet with tears and there was blood oozing from Lance's lower lip. But what really caught Keith's attention was the big red ugly bruise on Lance's forehead.

"…I know I'm hot n'stuff, but it's kinda rude to stare y'know."

Keith blinked. Lance was _smiling_.

A warning bell went off in Keith's mind and he reached out, pushing Lance's hair out of the way so that he could inspect the injury. His knuckles grazed the bruise and Lance winced, slapping Keith's hand away. His smile looked more like a grimace now.

"Lance, I…I didn't think—"

"Nah bro, it's cool," Lance shrugged and brushed by Keith as he pushed away from the wall.

Keith bit his lip and grabbed Lance's wrist. "We should go to Coran to get you checked out."

His grip tightened as Lance tried to pull away. When Lance turned around, the smile had disappeared.

"Keith, I'm fine. I _won't_ be if I don't shower within the next five minutes."

Keith shook his head. "You could've gotten a concussion, Lance! You need to—"

"I don't need to do anything!" Lance snapped. "Just let me go! You've proved your point. What else do you want from me?"

"I just want to help," Keith released his hold on Lance's wrist reluctantly. He looked away- if he didn't have Lance's injuries right in front of his eyes, he might be able to swallow his guilt long enough to force Lance to seek medical attention. Why was Lance being so difficult?

"I think," Lance paused. Keith couldn't help it- he looked back up. Big mistake. The tears were back. Keith was starting to feel choked up as well. Why did it hurt him this much to see Lance cry?

"I think you've done enough for today."

Keith held his breath and watched as Lance turned around and walked out of the room. He couldn't go after him. Not after Lance had put it that way.

Keith hadn't meant to hurt Lance. Shoving him against that wall was…overkill, really. He was so used to sparring with Shiro and the gladiators, with whom he'd never needed to hold back. Maybe there was a reason Shiro had specifically wanted him to work on his evasion skills with Lance.

Keith took a deep breath and walked over to the hologram, pressing the screen to end the training session. Looking at the tally of 'hits' he'd taken made him cringe. Lance hadn't even touched him, yet Keith hadn't hesitated for a moment while putting that bruise on his teammate's head.

What was wrong with him?

 

 

_iv_

 

 

Lance was many things. Loud, petulant, annoying…the list goes on and on. There were a few good things on that list, too. Brave. Supportive. Funny. Keith wasn't one to make lists, but Lance had so many sides to him that it was difficult to keep track without one.

The list grew daily, adjectives adding up into what Keith hoped would one day be a clear-cut definition of Lance. The ambiguity of a fellow teammate was driving Keith crazy. Why couldn't Lance choose a label and stick with it? Every time Keith thought he'd finally figured Lance out, the guy had to go and do something unexpected. There was just no telling with Lance.

And so Keith observed, noticed and added traits to his mental list, hoping that one day he'll have enough to claim to understand Lance McClain.

_Kind. Loyal. Awful at video games. Tears up easily. Argumentative. Pretty eyes. Long legs. Slim waist. Nice ass._

Keith wasn't sure when he'd started to notice those last few attributes, but he'd wasted no time on acting upon them. One heated makeout session in the showers after a particularly rough battle gave Keith plenty of new things to put on his list.

_Good kisser. Strong grip. Nice smell. Cold hands._

Once Keith had gotten a taste, he knew that he wouldn't stop. Not when it felt so good. Their dalliances were an excellent way to let off steam and reign in his impulsivity. Well, that's what Keith told himself when he felt Lance's thighs squeeze his hips. What excused the red marks he'd leave on Lance's collarbone. It helped him sleep at night when he'd remember the way Lance gasped his name when Keith took him in his mouth.

It helped him now, with Lance in his lap, rolling his hips back and forth as he rode him with practiced ease. Practice they'd had together. It never grew old, though. How could it? Keith didn't think he'd ever tire of feeling the way Lance clenched tightly around him, regardless of how he was taken. On his back, on his hands and knees, against the wall…

They'd once even tried to do it on the kitchen counter, but Lance got cold feet before they'd even taken off their clothes. He'd whined about not wanting to violate Hunk's trust or something like that, and they'd relocated to Keith's bedroom.

In hindsight, it was probably for the best that they'd passed on sex in a public space, even if everyone had been asleep at the time. What he and Lance had wasn't official or even romantic, and the last thing Keith wanted was for someone to walk in on them and expect them to be a couple afterwards.

Because they weren't. Keith didn't want to hold Lance's hand and stare into his eyes as they strolled down some beach as the sun set behind them (or whatever all those couples did in the few romance films Keith had seen).

He wanted to pin Lance's wrists over his head and feel him squirm under his touch. He wanted to watch how Lance's cheeks hollowed when he sucked on his cock. He wanted to fuck Lance hard enough that the rest of the universe and the responsibility that came with it disappeared for a few, precious minutes.

It was working. Defeating Lotor, finding Shiro, leading Voltron…that was all Keith thought about lately. But none of it seemed to matter when Lance moaned and threw his head back, closing his eyes. Keith could feel Lance's thighs trembling against his legs.

"Fuck, Lance," Keith grit his teeth. His fingers dug into Lance's waist and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Lance's shoulder as he sucked in a shaky breath. "Don't…don't stop."

"Not plannin' to," Keith could feel Lance's following chuckle, light and slightly breathless, before he gasped as Lance rolled his hips. He could feel his length smearing precum on his stomach, but Keith couldn't care less- not when he was completely engulfed in Lance's heat.

Keith's mouth was dry as Lance resumed his previous pace, pushing himself up and falling back down on his cock. Keith tried to help him the best he could- bucking his hips to meet Lance halfway and guiding him back down. His hands never left Lance's waist.

Being so close, Keith couldn't resist leaving his mark on Lance's skin. Lance's neck was probably one of Keith's favorite parts of him- long, slender and soft. Plenty of space to cover with kisses and bites. They were lucky their bodysuits covered most of their necks, or rather, Lance was lucky. Keith wasn't sure he would've held back.

Keith pressed his lips to Lance's collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses as his mouth explored the column of Lance's neck. He latched onto a spot on Lance's throat, just under his Adam's Apple, and sucked. Lance's nails dug into his back and Keith groaned, his own grip tightening as he pulled away only to tilt his head and meet Lance's lips instead. He'd inspect his handiwork later.

"Keith…" Lance gasped, pulling away from their liplock. Keith followed, humming as he closed the gap again. But Lance turned his head and pushed Keith's shoulders back.

"Keith!"

Keith's eyes widened as he sat back, chastened. From what, he wasn't sure, but it was obvious that he'd done something wrong. Was Lance angry about the hickey?

"What?"

"You're hurting me," Lance huffed, lowering his arms from Keith's shoulders to grab the hands on his waist and pull at them.

Keith pulled away immediately, dropping his palms to Lance's thighs as he looked at the crescent marks his nails had left on Lance's skin. Aside from the marks, there weren't any other signs that Keith's hands had ever been on Lance's waist.

"…sorry," Keith shrugged and leaned down to press a kiss to Lance's collarbone, but Lance jerked away.

"'Sorry'? That's all you've got to say?"

Keith blinked. Lance's lips were pursed and he was eyeing him as if he was expecting something from Keith. The last time Keith had been looked at like that was when he'd borrowed Shiro's laptop back at the Garrison without asking and had accidentally spilled his late-night coffee on it.

Shiro had been disappointed in him, and rightfully so. But this? Keith couldn't figure this one out.

"Um…I guess? What else do you want me to say?"

"Oh, I dunno," Lance crossed his arms. "Maybe you could start with asking me if I'm okay? Promise you won't do it again?" He leaned back, presumably to put some space between them, but all it did was make Keith inhale sharply. Having your dick inside someone who was irritated with you was a rather confusing experience.

Keith splayed his fingers on Lance's thighs and looked down. This was ridiculous.

"I just held your waist a little too tightly, Lance- it's not like I mortally wounded you or anything. And I said I'm sorry. It's not that big of a deal."

He looked up and immediately wished he hadn't. Lance met his gaze with enough anger that made Keith flinch.

"I say that you've hurt me, and to you it's not 'that big of a deal'?"

Bristling, Keith raised his hands and gripped Lance's shoulders.

"That's not what I said! I just don't understand why you've gotta be so dramatic about it! You're-"

"I'm what?" Lance narrowed his eyes. "Go on, what am I?"

Keith grit his teeth. "You're always doing this- making such a big scene out of every little thing. I've already apologized! What else do you want?"

"I guess a bit of sympathy is too much to ask," Lance spat. Keith fell back as Lance shoved and climbed off of him, wincing at the sudden movement. He watched as Lance grabbed his jeans and struggled to pull them up.

Swearing, Keith crawled forward and grabbed Lance's wrist. "Lance, c'mon, don't be like this. I'm sorry, okay? Come back to bed."

"Fuck you," Lance yanked his wrist out of Keith's grip and bent down to grab his shoes from the floor. "I'm not coming anywhere near your bed until you learn how to be a decent human being."

"You know what? Screw you," Keith growled. He reached for Lance's shirt that had somehow ended up on his pillow and flung it in Lance's face.

Lance caught his shirt and pulled it over his head. "Better check if your right hand still works, Kogane, 'cuz you're not screwing me anytime soon."

"Fine!" Keith glared as Lance marched out of his room. Had the doors not been automatic, he was pretty sure that Lance would've slammed it for good measure. Either way, the moment Lance disappeared behind the door, Keith grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at the wall with a frustrated cry.

Well, he'd survived on his own before Lance, and he'd survive again without him. He could certainly do without all of his dramatics. Besides, Keith hardly needed his rendezvous with Lance to get off.

It had been nice, though. While it lasted. Why did Lance have to make everything so complicated? Those nail marks on his waist were most likely gone by now!

…

 

 

_v_

 

 

 Keith gave Black one last pat before walking over to Red's hangar. It was easier saying goodbye to Black- he'd never really felt like she'd belonged to him. Their bond had always had an expiration date. His leadership of Voltron was a temporary role he'd been chosen to fill until they found Shiro, and Keith wouldn't have had it any other way.

He was never meant to…to lead. Didn't want it. The last few weeks of his joint operations with the Blade only proved how the team was better off without him as the decision maker. Keith would be the first to admit that he's impulsive and not so great at people skills, to put it nicely.

A leader needed to think clearly at all times and put the needs of their teammates before their own. A good leader always knew what to say to boost a team's morale. The leader of Voltron was responsible for the fate of the entire universe, and as such needed to have the bigger picture in mind every step of the way.

Keith wasn't any of these things. Shiro was. And now, after far too long, Shiro was back where he belonged. Keith had spent quite a few restless nights wishing everything could go back to the way it was before Shiro disappeared for the second time. Wished that he could go back to feeling like he was doing the right thing.

But too much had changed to go back to the way things were. Allura piloted Blue, Lance had been chosen by Red, and Keith… Keith's place was with the Blade, now. The war against the Galra was too important to allow himself to be sentimental and stay where he clearly wasn't needed anymore.

It was just like Lance had said before- there was one too many paladins, only he'd been wrong about the odd man out. Allura had been wrong, too. Keith knew she meant well, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Keith had no role to fill as a paladin of Voltron. He wasn't as invaluable as she'd insisted.

The Blade of Marmora, on the other hand, needed him. It hurt to leave the friends he'd lived and fought with, but there was no doubt in Keith's mind where he now belonged.

So, no. Saying goodbye to Black wasn't too difficult. Red, on the other hand…

"Hey," Keith murmured, placing his palm on Red's leg. He hadn't had all that much time to interact with her since the switch and for a moment, Keith worried that she might not want to talk to him at all. But the familiar sensation that was purely _Red_ washed over him and Keith couldn't help the relieved smile.

They might not be connected anymore, but Red still recognized their previous bond.

"It's good to see you," Keith rubbed Red's leg affectionately, "and I wish I could stay longer. But I'm…going away for a while." Keith paused and raised his head as Red growled.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss you too. Take care of everyone for me, okay? Especially your paladin. He still needs time to adjust to your speed, but I'm sure he'll catch on…eventually."

Keith grinned. It was common knowledge that Lance had already more or less adapted to Red, but Keith knew she understood the meaning behind his words.

In the end of the day, Keith was glad that the person Red had chosen to replace him was Lance. Despite his silly tendencies, Lance was someone that could be trusted. That Keith trusted. Knowing that Lance and Red had each other was one less thing Keith had to worry about.

"Keith?"

Keith quickly pulled his hand away from Red and turned around. Speak of the devil. Lance made his way across the hangar towards him, pausing only to blow a kiss up at Red before coming to a stop in front of Keith. Lance's face had lit up for a moment when Keith had turned around, but the smile was gone by the time he reached him. It was a little uncomfortable seeing him without it.

"Lance," Keith replied evenly, waiting for an explanation of some kind. Lance's sudden appearance wasn't a coincidence- he'd obviously sought him out. Keith had thought…well, had hoped that his announcement to everyone would be his final interaction with the rest of the team before quietly slipping away to the Blade's headquarters. It was easier that way.

But then, Lance had always been difficult. He couldn't have really expected to leave without the Blue Paladin having the last word. Keith wasn't really sure what Lance wanted to talk about, though. He'd made it very clear that he wasn't about to change his mind and Lance knew better than to try.

"I went to your room and saw that your stuff was still there, so I figured you haven't left yet," Lance said slowly, as if weighing every word. Keith knew why. Lance hadn't been anywhere near his room since their…argument a few weeks back.

Nodding, Keith took a step forward and patted Red's leg again. "Yeah, couldn't go without saying goodbye, y'know?"

Lance nodded as well. "I thought you'd be here. Guess I was right!"

Keith lowered his hand. Lance had a tendency to beat around the bush that Keith could never understand. He didn't have the time to exchange pleasantries until Lance gathered his courage to get to the point.

"Lance, what is this about? Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"…yes, there was," Lance lowered his eyes to the floor before his gaze flickered back up to Keith's face. Keith had known Lance long enough by that point to recognize the determined set of his jaw.

He wasn't going to like this.

"I know things haven't been easy for you lately," Lance started, and Keith's eyes widened a fraction. That wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"Leading Voltron, going on missions with the Blade, stressing about finding Shiro…it's a wonder you haven't had a nervous breakdown."

Keith shrugged. Sure, the last few months hadn't been a walk in the park, but that just came with being a paladin and saving the universe.

"And I get why you feel like you gotta leave. I really do. But I just wanted to make sure that what happened between us isn't a factor in your decision."

Blinking, Keith felt at a loss. After weeks of avoiding any talk about what had happened in his bedroom, Lance brought it up just like that. Were they really doing this now? Right before he left?

Before Keith could formulate a response, Lance spoke up, launching into a nervous tirade.

"I mean, it's not that I think that it's the only reason why you're leaving! But I don't want it to be _a_ reason, y'know? You're a part of Voltron, Keith! Nothing that happens between us can change that! I can't stand thinking that you might be going on some stupid self-imposed exile just because—"

"Lance," Keith instinctively reached out and grabbed Lance's shoulder. He'd let Lance ramble long enough. He couldn't remember the last time they'd touched and apparently it surprised Lance as well, effectively cutting him off.

"I'm not leaving because of our fight," Keith elaborated after a tense moment of silence. "I'm sorry it ever happened, but believe me when I say that not hooking up with you isn't the reason that I'm joining the Blade full-time. Please don't blame yourself for it."

Keith met Lance's gaze for emphasis, but after a few long moments with no reply from Lance, started to feel awkward. His grip on Lance's shoulder slackened and he made to pull back when Lance suddenly raised his hand to grip Keith's wrist, keeping it exactly where it was.

"Okay, so maybe it isn't the reason you're leaving, but would you reconsider if we hooked up?

"…what?"

Lance's cheeks were flushed, but his grip on Keith's wrist never wavered.

"I'm asking if having sex would be enough to convince you to stay."

Keith was pretty sure his face was red, too.

"But I thought you were mad at me?"

Lance tugged Keith's wrist from his shoulder and interwove their fingers instead, squeezing his hand with a small smile.

"Yeah. Still am. You were a real jerk, but not enough for me to want you to leave. If it means you'll stay, I'm willing to take one for the team."

Keith frowned and took a step back, yanking his hand away, but Lance's grip was firm.

"Just kidding!" Lance quickly said, laughing nervously. "Sorry, that was a bad joke. But my offer still stands. I just might've overreacted back there, and I…I miss you, Keith. I don't want you to go."

Biting his lip, Keith tentatively reached out to take Lance's other hand in his. He wasn't having second thoughts, exactly, but Lance wasn't making his leaving any easier. A part of him wanted to accept his offer, but…

"I'm sorry too," he said quietly. "I _was_ a jerk and staying here with you, with the team…it's tempting. But I'm needed elsewhere."

"But we need you too!" Lance exclaimed, gripping Keith's hands. "There's so much you can do here to help us!"

Keith looked away. "I wouldn't be as much help here as I'd be with the Blade, Lance. You know that. This war is too important for me to take the back seat!"

"Well...what if I said that _I_ need you?" Lance asked. Keith's gaze snapped back to Lance's face, eyes wide. Lance offered him a shy smile.

"Lance, I—"

"I like you, Keith. A whole lot. And knowing you're leaving us to go on these suicide missions is kinda driving me crazy! How am I supposed to have your back when I don't even know where you are?"

There was a lump in Keith's throat that was getting more and more difficult to swallow around.

"I-I didn't—"

"Please don't go," Lance bit his lip. "Please, I want—"

Keith pulled his hands out of Lance's grasp and cupped his cheeks in his palms as he leaned forward to press their lips together.  Lance made a small sound and melted into his touch, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist and sidling up against him just like he used to. Keith closed his eyes and allowed himself this small indulgence. He'd missed this.

He'd missed Lance.

He forced himself to pull away and take a step back when he felt Lance's tongue on his lips. He couldn't afford to let things heat up and distract him from what he needed to say.

"Keith?"

Keith took a deep breath.

"Lance, I…I like you too. And you have no idea how much it means to me that you want me to stay. But I can't."

"What?" Keith hated how pained that one word sounded from Lance's mouth. He never wanted to hear it again.

"I can't stay," Keith repeated, strengthening his resolve.

"I don't understand," Lance's voice cracked. "You said you liked me."

Keith curled his hands into fists at his sides. "I do! But this is bigger than you or me, Lance. Don't you get it? I _have_ to leave!"

Lance took a step back and narrowed his eyes.

"No, you don't."

"I'm trying to do my part!"

"You're just running away!"

Keith grit his teeth. This wasn't going to work.

"Whatever. I need to go."

Lance reached out before he could storm out, though. His grip tightened around Keith's arm until he reluctantly met Lance's gaze.

"What do you want, Lance?"

Lance pursed his lips. "This is it, then? Are you just gonna walk away?"

Keith yanked his arm out of Lance's grip with a scowl and passed Lance by without another word.

Looking back, Keith wished he'd at least said goodbye.

 

.x.

 

"Wait, Keith, what are you doing?!"

Keith didn't reply. He wasn't sure he'd be able to go through with his plan if he said it out loud. Matt must've realized what he was doing, though. He was smart, just like Pidge. She wasn't the only one who was glad to have found him- Voltron and the Resistance were lucky to have him on their team.

"Keith, no!"

The purple glare of the Galra ship's barrier was almost blinding as Keith grew nearer. His hands started to tremble around the controls so he shut his eyes and tightened his grip. He didn't need them to navigate anymore. Even a rookie pilot knew how to fly forward in a straight line.

Keith held his breath. Any second, now. He wasn't sure what would come first- the explosion of Naxzela or the crash. He could only hope it'd be the latter. That way, at least the others would stand a chance. There was no way to know for certain that his plan would work, but what other choice did he have?

This was the only thing Keith could do.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes just before you kick the bucket. To Keith's relief, that wasn't the case. Recalling his sucky childhood wasn't the last thing he wanted to see before he died.

But a few images did flicker in his mind. A vague memory of someone rubbing his back to help him fall asleep when he was young. Shaking Shiro's hand as he introduced himself as his tutor at the Garrison. Shiro waking up in his shack and recognizing him after their rescue mission. Red accepting him as her paladin. Forming Voltron for the first time. The sleepover they all had in the lounge after saving the Balmera.

His first kiss with Lance in the showers.

Keith sucked in his breath. More and more memories presented themselves, all featuring Lance one way or another. Lance falling asleep against his shoulder during movie night. Lance stealing his jacket to use as an apron while baking cookies with Hunk. Lance, pale and unconscious, hovering inside the cryopod. Lance's damp breath on Keith's neck as they moved together in the dark.

Keith bit his lip and pushed the controls forward, increasing the jet's speed. He didn't want to think about Lance, to remember all of those memories. Not when the last thing he'd done was push Lance away. He didn't deserve them.

But maybe, just maybe, he could make things right. If he saved everyone…if he saved _Lance_ …

Maybe one day he'd forgive him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fic of 2018! :) 
> 
> I've wanted to write a 5+1 fic forever and have yet to experiment with Keith's POV, so I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone, haha. 
> 
> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
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